






















.<\ 



V. 



'• ./ -\. • 







.. ** .-k^ 









.. ^^,'*3?\/ %*^'%o^ ^^,'^^\/ 












* ,/ ^^ '-^^.^ ^^^ "^^^ %^^ 





°/, *■•'••' A- .. -> — - \v 



^^ * O f. o ' •^^ 



v-^' 






V<^' 






-^0 



.<f oV^^^^^-^ ^^^' :^m^\ '^An^ 








Bo^on Daily Times, Extra ..[No. 2. 

For sale at ilie Boston Daily Times Office, at fl,00 »er 100 copies., $1,00 per 1000 copier, and 
Two cents per single copy. 

■^' BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 



OF 



GEN. WILLIAM 0. BUTLEB, 

OF KENTUCKY. 

^^ 

BY FRANCIS P. "BLAIR. 



In memoirs of individuals of distinc- 
tion, it is usual to look back to their an- 
cestry. Tiie feeling is universal which 
prompts us to learn something of even 
an ordinary acquaintance in whom in- 
terest is felt. It will indulge, therefore, 
only a natural and proper curiosity to in- 
troduce the subject of this notice by a 
short accouht of a family whose strik- 
ing traits survive in him so remarkably. 

General'Butler's grandfather, Thomas 
Butler, was born 6th April, 1720, in Kil- 
kenny, Ireland. He married there in 
1742. Three of his five sons who at- 
tained manhood, Richard, William, and 
Thomas, were born abroad. Pierce, the 
father of General William 0. Butler, 
and Edward, the youngest son, were 
born in Pennsylvania. It is remarka- 
ble that all these men, and all their im- 
mediate male descendants, with a sing- 
le exception, were engaged in the mili- 
tary service of this country. 

The eldest, Richard, was lieutenant 
colonel of Morgan 's celebrated rifle reg- 
iment,' and to him it owed much of the 
high character that gave it a fame of its 
own, apart from the other corps of the 
revolution. The cool, disciplined valor 
which gave steady and deadly direction 
to the rifles of this regiment, was deriv- 
ed principally from this officer, who de- 
voted himself to the drill of his men. 



He was promoted to the full command of 
a regiment some time during the war, 
and in that capacity commanded. 
Wayne's left in the attack on Stony 
Point. About the year 1790, he was ap- 
pointed major-general. On the 4th of 
November, 1791, he was killed in Gen 
St Clair's bloody battle with the In- 
dians. His combat with the Indians, 
after he was shot, gave such a peculiar 
interest to "his fate, that a representation 
of himself and the group surrounding 
him was exhibited throughout the Un- 
ion in wax §gures. Notices of this ac- 
complished soldier will be found in 
Marshall's Life of Washington, pages 
290, 311, 420. In Gen St Clair's report, 
in the American Museum, volume xi, 
page 44, appendix. 

William Butler, the second son, was 
an officer throughout the revolutionary 
war, rose to the rank of colonel, and 
was in many of the severest battles. 
He was the favorite of the family, and 
was boasted of by this race of heroes as 
the coolest and boldest man in battle 
they had ever known. When the army 
was greatly reduced in rank and file, 
and there were many superfluous offi- 
cers, they organized themselves into a 
separate corps, and elected him to the 
oommand. General Washington declin- 
ed receiving this novel corps of commis- 



.-5 






I J 



sionetl soldiers, but, in a proud testimo- 
nial, did honor to their devoted patriot- 
ism. 

Of Thomas Butler, the third son, we 
glean the following fac's from the Amer- 
ican Biographical Dictionary. In the 
year 1776, whilst he was a student of 
law in the office of the eminent Judge 
Wilson, of Philadelphia, he left his pur- 
suit and joined the army as a subaltern. 
He soon obtained the command ot a 
company, in which he continued to the 
close of the revolutionary war. He was 
in almost every action fought in the 
middle States during the war. At the 
battle of Brandywine he received the 
thanks of Washington on the field of 
battle, through his aid-de-camp Gen 
Hamilton, for his intrepid conduct in ral- 
lying a detachment of retreating troops, 
and giving the enemy a severe fire. At 
the battle of Monmouth he received the 
thanks of Gen Wayne for defending a 
defiie, in the face of a severe fire from 
the enemy, while Col Richard Butler's 
regiment made good its retreat. 

At the close of the war he retired in- 
to private life, as a farmer, and continu- 
ed in the enjoyment of rural and domes- 
tic happiness until the year 1791, when 
he again took the field to meet the sav- 
age foe that menaced our western fron- 
lier. He commanded a battalion in the 
disastrous battle of November 4, 1791, 
in which his brother fell. Orders were 
given by Gen St Clair to charge with the 
bayonet, and Major Butler, though his 
leg had been broken by a ball, yet on 
horseback, led his battalion to the 
charge. It was with difficulty his sur- 
viving brother. Captain Edward But- 
ler, removed him from the field. In 
1792 he was continued in the estab- 
lishment 3S major, and in 1794 he 
was promoted to the rank of lieuten- 
ant-colonel commandant of the 4th 
sub-legion. He commanded in this 
year Fort Fayette, at Pittsburg, and pre- 
vented the deluded insurgents from tak- 
ing it — more by his name than by his 
forces, for he had but few troops. The 
close of A is life was embittered with 
trouble. In 1803 he was arrested by the 
commanding general (Wilkinson) at 
Fort Adams, on the Mississippi, and 
sent to Maryland, where he was tried by 



a court-martial, and acquitted of all the 
charges, save that of wearing his hair. 
He was then ordered to New Orleans, 
where he arrived, to take command ofi! 
the t<x)ops, October 20th, He was again! 
arrested hexHrionth f *but the court didi 
sit until July of the next year, and theiri 
decision is not known. Colonel Buileri 
died September 7, 1805. . Out of the ar- 
rest and persecufioij of this sturdy vet-t 
eran, Washington Irving (Knickerbock-;; 
er) has worked up a fine piece of bur- ■ 
lesque, in which General Wilkinson's: 
character is inimitably delineated in 
that of the vain and pompous General 
Von PofTenburg. 

Percival Butler, the fourth son, father 
of General Wm. 0. Butler, was boi§i 
at Carlisle, Pennsylvania, in 1760. Het 
entered the army as a lieutenant at thet 
age of eighteen ; was with Washington 
at Valley Forge ; was in the battle of 
Monmouth, and at the taking of York- 
town — being through the whole serie 
of struggles in the middle States, with 
t^e troops under the commander-in- 
chief, except for a 'hort period when h«' 
was attached to a light corps comman'^- 
ed by La Fayette, who presented hiin 
a sword. Near the close of the war, ht 
went to the south with the Pennsyl- 
vania brigade, where peace found him. 
He emigrated to Kentucky in 1784 fe 
was the last of the old stock left whe' ' 
the war of 1812 commenced. He Wa 
made adjutant general when Kentuckv 
became a State, and in that capacii ,- 
joined one of the armies sent outb}',, 
Kentucky during the war. j 

Edward Butler, the youngest of tht 
five brothers, was too young to enter thb 
array in the first stages of the revolution 
but joined it near the close, and had ris-jl 
en to a captaincy when Gen. St. Clairji 
toQk the command, and led it to that dis- 
astrous defeat in which so many of the ■ 
best soldiers of the country perished. 
He there evinced the highest courage 
and strongest fraternal aiTection, in car- ■ 
rying his wonnded brother out of thfif 
massacre, which was continued for mile; | 
along the route of the retreafing army, 
and from which so few escaped, even of 
those who fled unencumbered. He sub- i 
sequently became adjutant gener 1 in 
Wayne's army. 



Of these five brothers, four had sons 
— all of whom, with ooe exception, were 
engaged in ttie military or naval service 
of the country during the last war, 

1st. Genera! Richard Butler's son Wil- 
liam died a lieutenat in ;he navy, early 
m the last war. His son, Captain James 
Butler, was at the head of the Pittsburg 
Blues, which company he cjmmanded 
in the campaigns of the northwest, and 
was particularly distinguished in the 
battle of Mississinnawa. 

2d. Colonel William Butler, also of 
the revolutionary army, had two sons • 
one died in the navy, the other a subal- 
tern in Wayne's army. He was in the 
battle with the Indians in 1794. 
.' 3d. Lieut. Col. Thomas Butler, of the 
old stock, had three sons, ihe eldest a 
iudge. The second, Col. Robert Butler 
was at the head of Gen. Jackson^s staff 
IjZ-n"" •'"^ the last war. The third 
William E Butler, also served in the ar- 
my of Gen. Jackson. 
4th. Percival Butler, captain in the 
^ revolutionary war, and adjutant general 
, of Kentucky during the last war, had 
'i tour sons : first Thomas, who was a cap- 
. tain, and aid to Gen. Jackson At New 
Orleans ; next. Gen. William 0. Butler 
the subject of this notice ; third. Rich- 
ard who was assistant adjutant general 
m the ('•ampaigns of the war of 184'? 
Fercival Butler, the youngest son, now 
a distinguished lawyer, was not of an 
age to bear arms in the last war. Of the 
second generation of the Butlers, there 
are nine certainly, and probably more 
engaged in the present war. 

This glance at the family shows the 
character of the race. An anecdote de- 
rived horn a letter of an old Pennsylva- 
nia friend of the parents, who transplant- 
ed it irom Ireland, shows that its milita- 
ry instinct was an inheritance. 'While 
the five sons,' says the letter, 'were ab- 
sent from homo in the service of the 
country, the old father took it into his 
head to go also. The neighbors collect- 
ed to remonstrate against it ; but his wife 
said, 'Let him go ! I can get along with- 
out him, and raise something to feed the 
army m the bargain ; and \he country 
wants every man who ^an shoulder a 
musket.' ' It was doubtless this extra- 
ordinary zeal of the Butler family which 



induced Gen Washington to give the 
toast— 'The Butlers, and their five sons,' 
at his own table, whilst surrounded by a 
large party of officers. This anecdote 
rests on the authority of the late Gen 
Findlay, of Cincinnati. A similar trib- 
ute of respect was paid to this devoted 
house of soldiers by Gen Lafayette, in a 
letter now extant, and in the possession 
01 a lady connected with it by marriage 
Lafayette says, 'When 1 wanted a thing 
well done, I ordered a Butler to do it.' 

From this retrospect, it will be seen 
that, in all the wars of the country — in 
the revolutio;iary war, in the Indian 
war, in the last British war, and the 
present Mexican war— the blood of al- 
most every Butler able to bear arras has 
been freely shed in the public cause.— 
Maj Gen Wm 0. Butler is now among 
the highest in the milita y service of his 
country ; and he has attrined this grade 
from the ranks — the position of a 
private being the only one he 
ever sought. At the opening of the war 
of 1812, he had just graduated in the 
Transylvania Universiy, and was look- 
mg to the law as a profession. The sur- 
render of Detroit, and of the army by 
Hull, aroused the patriotism ana the 
valor of Kentucky ; and young Butler, 
yet in his minority was among the first 
to volunteer. He, gave up his books, 
and the enjoyments of the gay and pol- 
ished society of Lexington, where he 
lived among a circle of fond and par- 
tial relations— the hope to gratify their 
ambition in shining at the bar, or in the 
political forum of the State— to join Capt 
Hart's company of infantry as a private 
soldier. 

Before the march to join the north- 
western army, he was elected a corpo- 
ral. In this grade he marched to the 
relief of Fort Wayne, which was invest- 
ed by hostile Indians. These were 
driven before the Kentucky volunteers 
to their towns on the Wabash, which 
were destroyed, and the troops then re- 
turned to the Miami of the lakes, where 
they made a winter encampment. — 
Here an ensign's commission in the 
second regiment of the United !«tates in- 
fantry was tendered to the volunteer 
corporal, which he declined, unless per- 
mitted to remain with the lorthweste* 

3 






army, which he had entered to share in 
the effort of the Kentucky nailitia to 
wipe out the disgrace of Hull's surren- 
der by the recapture of Detroit. His 
proposition was assented to, and he re- 
ceived an ensign's appointment, in the 
17th infantry, then a part of the north- 
western army, under the command of 
Gen. Winchester. After enduring every 
privation in a winter encampment, in 
the wilderness and frozen marshes of the 
lake country, awahing in vain the ex- 
pected support of additional force.s, the 
Kentucky volunteers, led by Lewis, Al- 
len, and Madison, with Wall's regiment, 
(I7th U. S.,) advanced to encounter the 
force of British and Indians which de- 
fended Detroit. On leaving Kentucky, 
the volunteers had pledged themselves 
to drive the British invaders from our 
soil. These men and their leaders were 
held in such estimation at home, that the 
expectation formed of them exceeded 
their promises; and these volunteers, 
though disappointed in every succor 
which they had reason to anticipate — 
wanting in provisions, clothes, cannon, 
in everything — resolved, rather than 
lose reputation, to press on to the enter- 
prise, and endeavor to draw on after 
them, by entering into action, the troops 
behind. It is not proper here to enter 
into explanations of the causes of the 
disaster at the river Raisin, the conse- 
quence of this movement, nor to give 
the particulars of the battle. The inci- 
dents which signalized the character of 
the subject of this memoir alone are 
proper here. 

There were two battles at the river 
Raisin— one on the 18th, the other on 
the 22d of January. In the first, the 
■whole body of Indian warriors, drawn 
together from all the lake tribes, for the 
defence of Upper Canada against the 
approaching Kentuckians, were encoun- 
tered. In moving to the attack of this 
formidable force of the fiercest, and 
bravest, and most expert warriors on the 
continent, a strong party of them were 
described from the line with which En- 
sign Butler advanced, running forward 
to reach a fence, as a cover from which 
to ply their rifles. Butler instantly pro- 
.gosed, and was permitted, to anticipate 
^m. Calling upon some of the most 



alert and active men of the company, he 
ran directly to meet the Indians at the 
fence. He and his comrades outstrip- 
ped the enemy ; and, getting possession 
of the fence, kept the advantage of tho 
position for their advancing friends. — 
This incident, of however little impor- 
tance as to results, is worth remembrance 
in giving the traits of a young soldier's 
character. It is said that the hardiest 
veteran, at the opening of the fire in 
battle, feels^ for the moment, somewhat 
appalled : and Gen. Wolfe, one of the 
bravest of men, declared that the ' horritl 
yell of the Indian strikes the boldest 
heart with affright.' The stripping stu- 
dent, who, for the first time, beheld a 
field of battle on the snows of the river. 
Raisin, presenting in bold lelief long ' 
files of those terrible enemies, whose 
massacres had filled his native State 
with tales of horror, must have felt some 
stirring sensations. But the crack of the 
Indian rifle, and his savage yell, awoke 
in him the chivalric instincts of his na- 
ture ; and the promptitude with which 
he communicated his enthusiasm to a 
few comrades around, and rushed for- 
ward to meet danger in its most appall- 
ing form, risking himself to save others, 
and to secure a triumph which he could 
scarcely hope to share, gave earnest of 
the military talent, the self-sacrificing 
courage, and the soldierly sympathies 
which have drawn to him the nation's 
esteem. The close of the battle ot the 
18th gave another instance in which 
these latter traits of Gen. Butler's char- 
acter were still more strikingly illus- 
trated. The Indians, driven from the 
defences around the town on the river 
Raisin, retired fighting into the thick 
woods beyond it. The contest of sharp- 
shooting from tree to tree was here con- 
tinued — ihe Kentuckians pressing for- 
ward, and the Indians retreafing — until 
night closed in, when the Kentuckians 
were recalled to the encampment in the 
village. The Indians advanced as their 
opposers withdrew, and kept up the fire 
until the Kentuckians emerged from the 
woods into the open ground. Just as 
the column to which Ensign Butler be- 
longed reached the verge of the dark 
forest, the voice of a wounded man, who 
had been left some distance behind, wa» 



fith 
in' 

'y 

(J 



i 



heard callina out most piteously for help. 
Butler induced three of his company to 
go back in the woods with him, to bring 
him off. He was found, and they fought 
their way back — one of the men, Jere- 
miah VVabier, receiving a shot, of wnich 
he subsequently died. 

In the second sanguinary battle of the 
river Raisin, on the 22d of January, with 
the British and Indians, another act of 
self-devotion was periormed by Butler. 
After the rout and massacre of the right 
wing, belonging to Well's command, 
the whole force of the British and In- 
dians was concentrated against the small 
body of troops under Major Madison, that 
maintained their ground within the pick- 
eted gardens. A double barn, com- 
manding the plat of ground on which 
the Kentuckians stood, was approached 
on one side by the Indians, under the 
cover of an orchard and fence ; the Brii- 
ish, on the other side, being so posted as 
to command the space between it and 
the pickets. A party in the rear of tha 
barn were discovered advancing to take 
possession of .t. All saw the fatal con- 
sequences of the secure lodgment of the 
enemy at a place which would present 
every m^n within the pickets at close 
rifleshot to the aim of their marksmen. 
Major J^adison inquired if there was no 
one who would volunteer to run the 
gauntlet of the fire of the British and 
Indian lines, and put a torch to the com- 
bustibles within the barn, to save the 
remnant of the little army Irom sacrifice. 
Butler, without a moment's delay, took 
some blazing sticks from a fire at hand, 
leaped the pickets, and running; at his 
utmost speed, thrust the fire into the 
straw within the barn. One who was an 
anxious spectator of the event we nar- 
rate, says, ' that although volley upon 
volley was fired at him, Butler, after 
making some steps on his way back, 
turned to see if the fire had taken, and, 
not being satisfied, returned to the barn, 
and set it in a blaze. As the confla- 
gration grew, the enemy was seen re- 
treating trom the rear ot the building, 
which they had entered at one end as 
the flame ascended in the other. Soon 
after reaching the pickets in safety, amid 
the shouts of his friends, he was struck 
by a ball in the breast. Believing, from 



the pain he felt, that it had penetrated 
his chest, turning to Adjutant (now Gen- 
eral) McCalla, one of his Lexington 
comrades, and pressing his hand to the 
' pot, he said, ' 1 fear this shot is mortal ; 
but while I am able to move, I will do 
my duty. ' To the anxious inquiries oi 
this friend, who met him soon afterward 
again, he opened his vest, with a smile, 
and showed him that the ball had spent 
itself on the thick wadding of his coat 
and on his breast-bone. He suffered, 
however, for many weeks. 

The little band within the pickets, 
which Winchester had surrendered, af- 
ter being carried himself a prisoner into 
Proctor's camp, denied his powers. — 
They continued to hold the enemy at 
bay until they were enabled to capitu- 
late on honorable terms, which, never- 
theless. Proctor shamefully violated, by 
leaving the sick and wounded who were 
unable to walk to the tomahawk of his 
allies. Butler, who was among the few 
of the wounded who escaped the massa- 
cre, was marched through Canada to Fort 
Niagara— suffering under his wound, and 
every privation — oppressed with grief, 
hunger, fatigue, and the inclement cold 
of that desolate region. Even here he 
forgot himself, and his mind wandered 
back to the last night scene which he 
surveyed 'in the bloody shoies of the 
river Raisin. He gave up the heroic 
part, and became the school-boy again, 
and commemorated his sorrows for his 
lost friends in verse, like some passion- 
ate, heart-broken lover. These elegiac 
strains were never intended for any but 
the eye of mutual friends, whose sym- 
pathies, like his own, poured out tears 
with their plaints over the dead. We 
give some of these lines of his boyhood 
to show that the heroic youth had a bo 
som not less kind than brave. 

THE FIELD OF RAISIN. 

The battle 's o'er ! the din is past, 
Night's mantle o'er the field is cast ; 
The Indian yell is heard no more, 
And silence broods o'er Erie's shore. 
At this lone hour I go to iread 
The field where valor vainly bled— 
To raise the wounded warrior's crest, 
Or warm with tears his icy breast ; 
To treasure up his last command, 
And bear it to his native land. 
It may one pulse ol joy impart 



To a fond mother's bleeding heart ; 
Or for a moment it mav diy^ 
Ttie teai-drop in the widow's eyt- 
Vain t)ope, away ! Ttie wii ow ne'er 
^'er wanior's dying wish shall hear 
The passipg zephyr bears no sigh, 
N » wounded warrior meeis the eye — 
Den'h IS hi« sleep by Erie's v^ave, 
Ol Riisiii's Siiow we htap Jiis grave ! 
How many nopes lie murdered here — 

The mother's joy, the father's pride, 
Tne country's boast the foeiuan'M lear, 

In wilder'd havoc, s de by side. 
Lend me, thou slent qeeeftol night, 
JLi-iiid me awhile thy waning li§bi, 
That I may see each well loved krm, 
Tnat sunk bsneaih the moriiiDg storm. 

These lines are introductory to what 
ir.ay be considerad a succession of epi- 
taphs on the personal friends whose bod- 
ies he found upon the field. It would 
e.xfend the extract too far to insert them. 
We can only add the close of the poem, 
where he lakes leave of a group of his 
young comrades in Hart's company, who 
had fallen together : — 

And here I fee that youthful band, 
Toal loved to move at Hart's command ; 
I savif them tor the baitle dressed. 
And still waere d«nger thicktsl pressed, 
I maiked their t-riiuson plumage wave. 
How many fill this bloody giave! 
Their piUuw and their windirg s'.eet 
Tne vigin snow—a shroud most meet! 

But wbcrtfore do I linger iif-te? 
Wny drop the unavailing tea*? 
Where'er I turn, some >ouiiilul lotic, 
L'ke floweret brtiien by me storm, 
Appeals to me in sad array, 
And bids me vet a moment stay, 
Till I could londly lay me down 
And sl'tp wiin him on ifce coid grour.d, 

For thee, thou dread and solemu plain, 
I ne'er shall look on thfC again ; 
And s-pring, with her effacing >howe's, 
Shill come, scd summer's mantling flowers; 
A .d each succeeding wirter throw 
Oa ihy rrd bieast new robts ci snow; 
Yet I *ill wear thee '.n my Heart, 
Ail d«rk aiid gory as ihou art. 

Shortly after his return from Canada, 
Ensign Butler was promoted to a cap- 
taincy in the regiment to which he be- 
longed But as this promotion was ir- 
re<2ular, being made over the heads of 
senior officers in that regiment, a cap- 
taincy was given him in the 44th, a 
newly raised regiment. When freed 
from parole, by exchange, in 1814, he 
instantly entered on active duty, with a 
company which he had recrjiited at 
J^ashville, Tennessee. His regiment 



was ordered to join General Jackson in 
the South ; but Captain Butler, finding 
its movements tartly, pushed on, and 
effected that junction with his company 
alone. General Call, at that time an 
officer in Captain Butler's company, 
(since Governor of Florida.) in a letter 
addressed to Mr Tanner, of Kentucky, 
presents, as an eye-witness, so graphi- 
cally the share which Captain Butler 
had in the campaign which followed, 
that it may well supercede any narra- 
tive at second hand. 

Tallahassee, April 3 1844 

Sir:— I avsil myself ol the earliest leisure I 
have had since the receipt of your letter ot the 
18 h ot February, to give you a reply. 

A difference ot poiu cal !>entiraeais will net 
induce me to withhold ihe narrative you have 
leqnesied, of ihe military services of Col Wm. 
O Butler, during tne late war with Great Bni- 
a.n, while atiHChed to the army of me Soutn. 
My intimate association with hiin, m csmp, on 
the man h, and m ihe field, has perhaps made 
me as well acquainted wnh his merits, as a 
g(nilemari and a soldier, as ai y other man 
livii g And although we are row standing iu 
opposite ranks, I cannot (orget ihe days and 
nignts we have stood side by «ide lacing the 
common enemy of our coun ry, sharing the 
same fatigues, dargefS, and ^tivUiods, and 
participp'ing m the same plefvMues and enjoy 
ments. Theteelii^gsard sympaihiesspringiiig 
trom such associations in the days ot our ytutu 
can never be mcved or impaired by a differ- 
ence ct opinion with regard to men or mea- 
sures, V hen each may well believe the orher 
equally sincere rs himself, and where the most 
ardent' desire of both is to snstam tt^e honor, 
the happiness and prosperi'y of our country. 

S 'oa after my appointment in the army ot 
the United States as a lieutenan*, ia the tail 
ot 1814 I was ordered to join the company ot 
Captrin Biill'-r, ot ihe44'h regiment of iniap 
try. iheu at Nashville, Tennessee When I 
arrived and reported m^seK, I f 'und the coui- 
pany undr orders to j'umur regiment in the 
Sou'h The maich— mrsly through an un- 
sftiled wilderness — wis coi ducted by Capt. 
Bailei wiih his usual promptitude and energy ; 
and, by torced and rapiu uiovemei.is, we ar 
rived Ht Fort M mtgomery, the headquarters 
of Gen. Jackson, a fhon distance iibo«e ihe 
Florida line, ju.«t in time to follow our be- 
loved General in h s bold ente-prise to drive 
the enemy (rom h s strong position in a neu- 
tral terriioiy The vanguard ot ihe army 
destin< d hr the invasion ol Louisiana had 
made FensacolaMts heedqnariers, and ihe 
B itish navy in the Gull o> Mexico had rtn- 
dtzvo'.ise'J in that b^ HUtlul bi:y. 

The pecetraiing sagacity ol Gen. Jackson 
discovered the ndvaniage of the posiuou as- 
sumed by the British forces: and, wi h a dc- 
cifion and energy which never falteied, he 



r.'folved to Had his enemy, evea under the 
fl g of a neutral power This was done by a 
prompt and rapid march, ""ip wrg and cut- 
ting off all the advanced picket?, Uotil we ar- 
rived -wi hin gunshot cl the l.irl at PeusBCoia. 
The armv of Gea Jacksoa was th n su in 
coasidemble as to reader a reinio'cemeDt 
of a single company, commanded by such 
an oflicer as Capi Builer, an important 
acquisiti in. And although there we>e several 
companies of regular troops oidered to marca 
iri>m Tennessee at the same time, Capt But 
ler's, by hi^ extraordinary energy and piomp- 
ti'ude, was the only one which anived io time 
to join this expediiion. His tompatiy formed 
a partcf iheceiiire columa of attack at Pen- 
sacola. The street we efitered was deteuded 
by a battery in Iront, which fire ' f n us inces- 
santlv, whle several ftrong block-houses, on 
our flark, duscharged upon us small arms and 
artillery. But a gallant and rapid charge sorn 
carried the guns in front, and the town imme- 
diately surrendered In th:s fight, CxptBut 
ler led <'n his company with his UMial inire 
pidity. He had < ne olBcer, Lieut Flournoy, 
severely wounded, and several con-commis- 
sioned ttficers and privates killed and wouud- 
ed. 

From Pensacola, after- the cbject of the ex 
pediiion was completed, by another prompt 
and rapid movement we arrived at New Or- 
leans a few weeks before the sppearaBCe uf 
the enemy 

On ihe 23d oi December the s gnal gun au- 
nounctd tne approach of the enemy. The 
prtvious n ght ih^y had suprisfd ar d cap- 
tured one of our pickets : had ascended a bay- 
ou, disenibaiked, and had taken possession ot 
the left bank ol the Mississippi, wiitiin six mil s 
of New-Oileans. The energy ot every oliicer 
was put in rtquifiticD, to cunceniraie cur 
fjrces m time to meet the enemy. Cept But- 
ler was one of the fi'St to arrive at Ihe Gener- 
al's quarters, and ask instructions: they wtirti 
received, and promptly executed Our regi- 
ment, stitioned on the opposite side, was 
transported across the river. All the avaia- 
ble forces of our army, net much exceeding 
fifteen hundred men, were concentrated m 
the city : and while the sun weui down, the 
line cf bitile was loimed, and every officer 
took the station assigned him in the li^ht 
The infantry formed on ihe opea square, in 
front cf ihe cathedral, waiwrg m anxious ex- 
pectation tor (he order to move. During tt is 
momentary pause, while the enemy was ex- 
pected to enter the city, a scene of deep and 
thrilling interest was presented. Every gal- 
lery, porch, and window around the square 
was filled with the fair forms of beauty, in si-. 
lent anxiety and alarm, waving their hand- 
kerchiefs to the gallant and devoted band 
which stood before them, preparsd to die, or 
defend them from the rude intrusion of a (or 
eign soldiery. It was a scene cak-ulattd to 
awaken emotions never to be forgotten. It 
appealed to the chivalry and patriotism of ev 
ery officer and soldier— it inspired every heait 



and nerved evdry arm for battle. From this 
impressive scene the army matched to meet 
the enemy, and sbjut eight o'clock at nigtit 
they were surprised in their encampment, im- 
mediately on the banks of the iWistissippi. 
U(i<ii*cnvertd, cur line wss fonned in silence 
within a fhort distance of the enemy ; a rapid 
charge wa;^ made into their camp, and a des- 
perate Conflict ensued. Alie. a dt-iermned 
resistance, tne enemy gave way, but dispute 
ing every inch of ground we gained In ad- 
vanciDg over diiches and fences in the night, 
rendered still more daik by the smcke of the 
battle, much confusion necessarily eisutrd, 
and many officers became separated fiom tt<nir 
commands Ii more than once occurred dur- 
irg the fight, that some of our officers, through 
mistake, entered ihe enemy's lines: and tue 
British officers in I ke manner entered ours. 
The meritorious officer in command of our 
regiment, at the commencemetii of the bat- 
tle, ost his position in the darkness and con- 
tusion, and was unable to regain it until the 
action was over. In this manner, fjr a short 
time, the rtgiment was without a commander, 
and Its movements Were regulated by the pla- 
toon oificers, which increased the confusion 
and irregularity of the advance. Iii th s crit- 
ical situation, and in the heat of the battle, 
C.ipt Buihr, as the senior officer present, as- 
sumed command cf the regiment, and Ud it 
on most gallantly 'o repeated aiid successlul 
charg-s, until th« figiit ended m the complete 
rout ..f the enemy We were still pressing 
on 'heir rear, when an cfficer of ihe general s 
sisfT rode up and ordered the pursuit dif con- 
tinued. Captain Butler urged us continuance 
and expres^ed the coifideni belief of his 
ab lity to take; many pr'st•uel^', it permitted to 
advance. But ih« oider was promptly re- 
peated, under the well-four.ded appreuension 
that cur troops ffiigtit come in coliisiou with 
each other— an event which had unhappily 
occurred at a previous hour of the fight Mo 
corps on that field was more b/avely led to 
bittie than 'h-,- regiment commanded by Cap 
lain Butler: and n«> oriicer of any rank, save 
tt e commander-in-chief, was entitled to high- 
er credit for the actiievcmeut of thai glorious 
night. 

A shoit time before the battle of the 8th of 
January, Ceptaui Bntler was detailed to com- 
mand the guard in from of the encampmeM 
A house standing near the brii'ge, in advance 
of nis position, had beeu taken possession of 
by the light troops of the enemv, irom whence 
they annoyed our guard. Cfipiaiu Builer de- 
termined to dislodge them and burn the house. 
He accordingly marched to the attack at the 
head of his command, but the enemy retired 
before him. Seeing them retreat, he halted 
his guard, and advanced himself accompanied 
by two or three men only, for the^^piirpcse of 
burning the house It was an old frame 
building, weather-boaided, Without ceiling or 
plasier in the it-side, witft a single door open- 
ing to the British camp. On entericg the 
house, he found a aoldier of the enemy con- 



cealed in one corner, whom he captured and 
sent to the rear with his men, remaining alone 
in the house. While he was in the act of 
kindling a lire, a detachment of the enemy, 
unpereeived, occupied the only door. The 
first impulse was to force, with his single 
arm, a passage through them; but he >nas 
instantly seized in a violent manner by two 
or three stout fellows, who pushed him back 
against the wall with such furce as to burst oiT 
the weather boarding from the wall, and he 
fell through the opening thus made. In an 
instant he recovered himself and, under a 
heavy fire from the enemy, he retreated until 
supported by the guard, which he immediate- 
ly led on to the aUack, drove the British ligbt 
troops from their strong position, and burnt 
the house ic the presence of the two armies. 

I witnessed on that field many deeds of dar- 
ing courage, but none of which more excited 
my admiration than this. 

Captain Butler was soon after in the bat- 
tle of ihe 8th of January, where he sustained 
his previously high r.nd well earned reputa- 
tion for bravery and usefulness. But that bat- 
tle, which, from its important results, has 
eclipsed those which preceded it, was but a 
slaughter of the enemy, with trivial loss on 
our part, and presenting lew instances of in- 
dividual distinction. 

Captain Butler received the brevet rank of 
major for his gallant services during that event- 
ful campaign, and the reward ot merit was 
never more worthily bestowed. Soon after 
the close of the war, he was appointed aid 
de camp to General Jackson in which sta- 
tion he remained until he retired from the ar- 
my. Since that period I have seldom had the 
pleasure of meeting w.th my valued friend and 
companion in arms, and I know but little of 
his career in civil life. But m camp, his ele- 
vated principles, his intelligence and generous 
feelings, won for him the resoect and coufi- 
dence of all who knew him; and I will ven- 
ture to say he is still most highly appreciated 
for every attribute which constitutes the gen- 
tleman and the soldier. 

I am, sir, very respectfully, 

„ „, R K CALL. 

Mr. William Tanner 

General Jackson's sense of the servi- 
ces of Butler in this memorable cam- 
paign, was strongly expressed in the 
following letter to a member of the Ken- 
tucky legislature ; 

Hermitagk, Feb. 20, 1844. 
Mv DiAR Sir : You ask me to give you 
my opinion of the military services of the then 
Capt (now Colonel) Wm. O Batler, of Ken- 
tucky, durirg ihei nves^ment of New Orleans 
by the Biitish forces in 1814 and 1815. I wish 
I had sufficient strength to speak fully of the 
merit and the services of Col Butler on that 
occasion ; this strength I have not. Suffice it 
'.o say, that on all occasions he displayed that 
heroic chivalry, and calmness in the hour of 



danger, which distinguish the valuable officer i 
in the hour of batile. In a conspicuous man- 
ner were those noble qualities di.«played by • 
him on the night of the 23d December, 1814, , 
and on the 8th of January, 1815, as well as at 
all times during the presence of the British i 
army at New Oileans. In short, he was to > 
be found at all points where duty called. I 
hazard nothing in sayu.g, that should our • 
country again be engaged in war during the ■- 
active age of Col. Butler, he would be one of 
the very best selections that could be made to 
command our army, and lead the eagles of 
our country on to victory and renown. He 
has sufficient energy to assume all responsi- 
bility necessary to success, and for hiscoun- 
try's good ANDREW JACKSON. 

General Jackson gave earlier proof of 
the estimation in which he held the 
young soldier who had identified him- 
self with his own glory at New Oileans. 
He made him his aid-de-camp in 1816, 
which statioa he retained on the peace 
establishment, with the rank of colonel. 
But, like his illustrious patron, he soon 
felt that military station and distinction 
had no charms for him when unattended 
with the dangers, duties, and patriotic 
achievements of war. He resigned, 
therefore, even the association with his 
veteran chief, of which he was so proud, 
and retired in 1817 to private life. He 
resumed the study of the profession that 
was inierrupted by the war, married, 
and settled down on his patrimonial pos- 
session at the confluence of the Ken- 
tucky and Ohio rivers, in the noiseless 
but arduous vocations of civil life. The 
abode which he had chosen made it pe- 
culiarly so with him. The region areund 
him was wild and romantic, sparsely 
settled, and by pastoral people. There 
are no populous towns. The high, roil- 
ing, and yet rich lands — the precipitous 
cliffs of the Kentucky, of the Eagle, Sev- 
ern, and other tributaries which pour 
into it near the mouth, make this section 
of the State still, to some extent, a wil- 
derness 01 thickets— of the tangled pea- 
vine, the grape vine, and nut-bearing 
trees, which rendered Kentucky, until 
the intrusion of the ^^hites, one great In- 
dian park. The whole luxuriant domain 
was preserved by the Indians as a pas- 
ture for buffalo, deer, elk, and other an- 
imals — their enjoyment alike as a chase 
and a subsistence — by excluding every 
tribe trom fixing a habitafion in it. Its 
name consecrated it as the dark and 



9 



bloody ground ; and war pursued every 
foot that trod it. 

In the midst of this region, in April, 
1791, Wm. 0. Butler was born, in Jes- 
samine county, on the Kentucky river. 
His father had married in Lexington 
soon after his arrival in Kentucky, 1782,' 
Miss Howkins, a sister-in-law of Col. 
Todd, who commanded and perished in 
the battle of the Blue-Licks. Following 
the instincts of his family, which seem- 
ed ever to court danger, Gen. Pierce 
Butler, as " neighborhood encroached 
around him, removed, not long after the 
birth of his son William, to the mouth of 
the Kentucky river. Through this sec- 
tion, the Indian war-path into the heart 
of Kentucky passed. Until the peace of 
1794, there was scarcely a day that some 
hostile savage did not prowl through the 
tangled fore-ts, and the labyrinths of 
hills, streams, and cliffs, which adapted 
this region to their lurking warfare. — 
From it they emerged when they made 
their last formidable incursion, and 
pushed their foray to the environs of 
Frankfort, the capital of the State. Gen. 
Pierce Butler had on one side of him 
the Ohio, on the farther shore of which 
the savage hoitles still held the mastery; 
and on the other, the romantic reeioii 
through which they hunted and pressed 
their war enterprises. And here, amid 
the scenes of border warfare, h;s %on 
William had the spirit which has^ani- 
mated him through life, educated by the 
legends of the Indian-fighting hunters of 
Kentucky. 

To the feelings and taste inspired by 
the peculiarities of the place and cir- 
sumslances adverted to, must be attrib- 
uted the return of Col. Butler to his 
Father's home, to enter on his profession 
is a lawyer. There were no great cau- 
ses or rich clients to attract him— no 
lense population to lift him to the polit* 
cal honors of the State. The eloquence 
md learning, the industry and integrity 
vhich he ga\{e to adjust the controver- 
iies of Gallatin and the surrounding 
counties, would have ci owned him with 
^T-u ^"^ professional distinction, if 
lixhibitedat Louisvills or Lexint^ton — 
1 3ut he coveted neither. Indepen'dence 
he affections of his early associates, the 
!Ove of a family circle, and the charm 



which the recollection of a happy boy- 
hood gave to the scenes in which he 
was reared, were all he souoht; and he 
found them all in the romanUc dells and 
woodland heights of the Kentucky, and 
on the sides of the far-spreading, gently- 
flowing, beautiful Ohio. The' feeling 
which his sincere and sensitive nature 
had imbibed here, was as strong as that 
of the Switzer for his bright lakes, loftv 
mountains, and deep valleys. The wild 
airs of the boat horn, which have re- 
sounded for so many years from arks 
descending the Ohio and Kentucky 
floating along the current, and recurring 
in echoes from the hollows of the hills, 
like its eddies, became as dear to hirri 
as the famous Rans de Vache to the na- 
tive of Switzerland. We insert, as char- 
acteristic alike of the poetical talent and 
temperajnent of Butler, some verses 
which the sound of this rude instrument 
evoked when he returned home, resign- 
ing with rapture 'the ear-piercing fife 
and spirit-stirring drum' for the wooden 
horn, which can only compass, in its 
simple melody, such airs as that to 
which Burns has set his beautiful words : 
When wilfJ war's deadly blast was blown 
And gentle peace returning, ' 

Wi' mony a sweet babs faiherlesa, 

And mony a widow mourning; 
I le/t ihe lines and lented field. 
The music of this song made the burden 
of the ' Boatman's Horn,' and always an- 
nounced the approaching ark lo the river 
villages. 

The sentiments of the poet, as well as 
the sweet and deep tones which wafted 
the plaintive air over the wide expanse 
of the Ohio, may have contributed to 
a,waken the feelings which pervade 
these lines; — 

THE BOAT HORJV. 

O, boatnoan ! ■» ind that horn ajrain. 

For never did the lisi'niug air 

Upon its lambent bosom bear 
Sr> wild, so soft, so sweet a strain. 
What though thy not s are sad and few, 

By every simple boatman blown, 
Yet IS each pulse to nature true, 

And melody in every tone. 
How oil in boyhood's jo'ous day, 

Unmindtul ot the lapsing hours, 
I've loitered on mv homeward way 

By wild Ohio's brink ol flowers, 
While some lone boatman, from the deck. 

Poured his soft numbers to that tide, 
As if to charm from storm and wreck 



10 



The b)al where all his iort;-nes ride ! 
Deligh'ed na'ure drank the sound, 
Eachanled— Eiho bire n muod 
In wbis'pers boft, and sutter slill, 
F'om hill to plain, and plain lo hill, 
Ti 1 e'en the ihougatlens, Irolick bay, 
E'aie with hope, and wild with joy, 
Who gimh )rd by the rivers side. 
And sporied with the frettins lice. 
Fdtls something new pervade his breast, 
Caain his 1 ght s'.tp, repress his jest, 
B 'lids o'er ihe flood tiis eager ear 
To CMtch the sounds far off, yet dear- 
Drinks thesvvt'et draught, t)ut knows not why 
Tne tear of rapture fi:ls his eve. 
A id can he now to manhood growu, 
Tell why thos^e notes, simple and lone, 
A* on the ravishtd ear they fell, 
Bind every s^^nse in magic ?pell? 
There is a tide ot fetlinf g ven 
To all on earth— iis founldin, Heaven. 
Beginning wi'h ih- dewy fljwer. 
Just ope a in Flora's vern«l b;iwcr — 
Rising ereatioii's orders through 
With louder murmur, brighter hue— 
Taat tide is s^ympathy ! us ebb and flow 
G ve lif-; Its hues o( joy and v.o. 
Music, (he master-iipint that can mi>ve 
Its waves lo war, or lull them into love — 
Can ^heer the sinking smIo' mid the wave. 
And bid the soldier on ! por f.'ar the g^ave— 
Jiicp re the iBi'ilir g pilgrim on his road, 
And elevate hi? soul to claim his God. 
Then, hoaiman ! wind tbat born fgain ! 
T'luUkh roucn ot si'rrow rriaik its strain, 
Y>-t aie it* iioies to .-orrow dear. 
Whit ihougn ih y wake tL^nd memory's tear I 
Tears are .sad Me.uory s sacied least, 
And Ripnire of., her chosen gue.«t 

This retirement, vs-hich may almost 
be considered seclusion, was enjoyed by 
Colonel Butler nearly twenty-five years, 
when he was called out by the demo- 
cratic party to redeem, by his personal 
popularity, the Congressional district in 
which he lived. It was supposed that 
no one else could save it from the whigs. 
Like all the rest of his family— none of 
whom had made their military service a 
passport to ths honors and emoluments 
of civil stations— he was averse lo relin- 
quish the attitude he occupied, to enter 
on a party struggle. The importunity of 
friends prevailed ; and he was elected to 
two successive terms in Congress — ab- 
solutely refusing to be a candidate a 
third time. He spoke seldom in Con- 
gress ; but, in two or three fine speech- 
es, which appear in the debates, a power 
will teadily be detected, which could 
not have failed to conduct to the highest 
distinction in that body. Taste, judg- 
ment, and eloquence characterized all 



his efibrts in Congrets. A fine mannei- 
an agreeable voice, and the high cori 
sideration accorded to him by the merri 
hers of all parties, gave him — what it i 
the aood fortune of few to obtain — an aa 
tentive and gratified audience. 

General Buder's political principlei 
have been, from his youth to the preset' 
day, uniformly democratic. Brought ui, 
in the school of opinion in which M| 
Clay was once a succesoful teaches 
General Butler refused to yield his priii 
ciples, to promote the aspirations of Ket 
tucky's champion. Neither cajolemeni 
nor threats could swerve him from thl 
Ime of rectitude ; and this fact accounrf 
for his having lived so much in retinf 
ment since the period of INlr Clay's d.^ 
fection from his old political friends, i 
While he held a seat in Congress :^ 
1841, the case of the McLeod.tiial canri; 
up, and Gen. BuUer delivered one of \l 
most effective speeches which were v\ 
tered on the occasion. As it shows ■ 
strong colors his political principles, ;J 
well as furnishes a specimen of bis co, 
gressional style of debate, we give 
extract : — 

Tne following resolution of Mr Floyd leiii^ 
upHfr consK'f ration : * 

Resolved, That the President of the Unt 
States be rtqn.sted to inform ihs Hou*e^ 
Yin iticompaiible with the public luhrti 
whether anv officer <'f the army, or the Ain 
nev General cf the United States, has, sin 
tbe'4 h ol March last, been directed 'o vi 
the St'ite cf New York for any purpos<^ c; 
nected with the iraprifonment and trial ot i 
exHnder McL^-cd ; ^nd whether, by any e 
futive measures or correspondence the Bri 
ish government has been given to undersia 
th- 1 Mr McL-od will be released or surre 
dered ; and, if so, to communtcate to tl 
House copies of the instructions and report 
such (fficer. 

Mr. W. 0. Butler addressed tl 
House as follows : i 

Mr, Spkarbr: When this resolution w 
under con.«!deraiion about a month since 
confess I felt much anxieiy to mingle in t 
debate then in progress. And, although t» 
anxiety ha» in a great degree subsided WJ 
the feelings cf the moment that gave rise toi 
vet I will avail myself ofths present most I 
expectPdopportunity to give my views upl 
it As I am limited to a sirgle hour, 1 w 
enter at onceorwhM I design saying, wit 
out preface or exordium. 

Although the whole course pursued by J^ 
Webster in relation to the burnirgcf the Oi. 
oline, and the demand for the release ot 



11 



Leod, meets my unqualified disapprcbalion, 
pad, as> I have no doubt, will meet the con- 
detrna'i'in of ninetenths of the American 
peop'e, vet my purpose is less to censu'ti or 
criiiese that coursf, iDaa to express my own 
views nn ihese important and highly interest. 
h'g matters. I bavn. however, another ob- 
ject in vi^w, sud that a subiirdinate one. I 
desire to repel, with due contempt, some of 
the many and bi ter attacks that have been 
made upon the democratic party and ih.j late 
Presiilent in i&e prcgres3«f this debate, by toe 
tederal sts who have undertaken the defence 
of Mr Webster, their leader and their favorite. 
They charge us with attempting" to .«timu!ate 
the nation into a war, for base pcliiieal pur- 
posrs For these, and all such cha'gt.", I can 
but feel the most til )roup'h conieatpt I have 
invariably tnund those who are in the daily 
habit of ioaUing- the most bitter and rmMf yg 
charges Bgainst a whole party to be the very 
last wfco tvould dare to whisper aught ii juri- 
on* lo the reputation of any individual mem- 
ber ot such p»riy Si'', the dnuocratic party 
know too well on whom the burdens <f wa' 
always have fallen, and must fall, to desire it 
■"'hen not demanded imp;4ratively for the hon 
or snd cafely of the naiiCii. And I lotk upon 
him, or them, who slesiie wur for any oth.^r 
du'po^e, with as much contempt as I would 
npon "hose >A'ho would skulk when a war was 
proper And I might, with much more truth, 
retort on the genilemen who have mude these 
charge!", that they have coijured them up, 
W!t!i he vain hofje .f screening: themst Ives 
and their leader from the contum'-!y and dis- 
grpce that are likelv to overtake them. 

I will now beg leave to turn niv paitioular 
at ention to the gentleman f om New Yotk, 
[Mr. Hunt] I owe '.bat gentleman an spuio- 
gy for rot having hesrd his whole speeih Ic 
wa!« accident alone that I heard any part oi' 
it I understood him tosf.y — and 1 know I d d 
not misunderstand him— that Mr Van Biiren, 
by his mivconduct, was justly chargeable with 
the hurnirg ot the Caroline, and all its train ct 
evil corstqtienees; that but <or his gross atd 
crioiin^l r^egl^e' of a hig^i cffieipl du'y, these 
mi«f Ttunes would neve* have b?ffllen tne 
country. I understo d him specifically o 
ch?'ge that Mr Van Bureit, wih the hope to 
gain the northern districts of New Yoik (or 
nis friends who were candidates tor Cor cess, 
and thereby to ^trena'.hen himcelf, had ab- 
stained from issuing hi? proclamation, which, 
had he is»ued at a proper time, wi>uld have 
prevemed hI! these d.sas'ers to tne country. 
Sir, let me tell the gentleman who has made 
these charges, 'hit he is paying his own no 
ble state a most shsbby complimeni when he 
-announces to the world that her support is to 
bo puichased by cuch vile means; whea he 
holds out the possibility even that the Presi- 
dent of the United States could hope to win 
her fdvor, either for his friends or himself, by 
a criminal direliction of duty. It is said, and 
Irom undoubted auihorrty, that a charge of 
precisely aa opposite character was made 



aga nst him pending the very elecii'ms to 
which the gentleman has referred It was 
then convenient to charge him with a too rigid 
• a(iminii»tranon of the law, to the oppr ssiou of 
the patriot cause; by which his t'levd^are 
Sdid te have lost groucd both in New York 
and Maine Oae ot these chaigt s is «bout as 
true as ihe o'her, and bo h ot tfiem f.'. Ise Can 
any sane man believe that Mr Van Bureu, in 
the first six months of hi* presidei cy, was ho 
much aiaimtd about his le election as to ba 
driven to s!?ch a desperate and despicable re- 
sort H8 this ? Whom did he fear as a compet- 
itor? Was it Gc-neral Harrison? He bad 
just beaten him two to one. Was it Mr 
Clay? To the reproa< h of a party supported 
by his name and talents alone, they have ever 
abardoned him at the hour ot nerd, and left 
him io the mort ficatiou ot being distanced bv 
every cumpe'itor. What party nad he to fear? 
The whig par;y ? The discord"ni elements 
that have sluice made it up were thea in a 
state cf angry cnai s. The odds and enos, 
and shreds aod patches of all pa. ties mat now 
co'ait.O'«e it, had not yet been lofced even into 
a repuls.ve contiguity. The southern slave 
holder and r.orihern aboluiocift had not yet 
lietn taught mat their honor and iheir interest 
required if thm to pull kindly in the same 
harness 1V>. sir: thefe were sinio.^r the 
many other tqually slrarg-e thiPgs (aught t.f- 
le'wavd in ine Harrisbuig convemK>n, and 
form too imp; rant sn epoch in the hisi^iy of 
the tiiuf. s to be chronicled at aay other peuod, 
Thty weie heralded into the wofid by the 
hard eider !»hont, and made iheir advent under 
the eo.'ii-i-kiri banner. But, whnt!: ver induce- 
ments Mr Van Bnren ra ght have bad to pur- 
sue a d fiereiit cturs^, I ai'j prepared to prove 
that, m relation to this mailer at least, he did 
all that ceuld be de.Mieil or esptcied cf a 
Wise and vigilant Chief Magistrate. It may 
be true that he did n' t issue his proclamation 
quite pis soon ss the gentleman from New 
Yo k thinks he should have done. But of 
whit avail was it when issued? Simply to 
inform the people of ihat which the -"inipleht 
man m fhe community knew just as well be- 
fcrs- that we were at peace with England, 
and that it wt;uld he unlawful to eng^-ge in 
the civil wars of Canada This, if it hud beea 
done lu time, would have satisfied the gentle- 
man from New York ; for so he has expressly 
informed h s House. It -vould not have satis- 
fied the natioD, nor did ii cohierit Mr Van Ba- 
ren; he felt h mstlfcalled upon to resort to much 
niore rigid and much more tfiicent means 
If ihp gentleman, who is so fond of censurirg 
ihe P.esidi nt fnr neglect of dnty, wishes to 
know what he has dor.e, let him read the pub' 
lie di'curaenis within h s reach, and he will ficid 
that on the7ih of Daceabir, 1837 -moje than 
twenty d'.ys bt'fo e'he burnitgef the Carolme 
— he is-ucd his orders, through the Secretary 
of S' ate, crmmandirg the D strict Atiorneys in 
the Stales bordering on C.mada to prosecute 
witii I gor all persons who should be found 
guilty of intermeddling ia the rflairs of that 



12 



country. He will also fiad that on the same 
day, and througti the same medium, he ad- 
dre.'ssed ihe several Governors of thoe Siates, 
exhorting ih-^m to a hUe v gilance. And those 
Governors severally issued proclamations. So 
that the peace and harmony of the two nations 
would have remained unbroken, if proclama- 
tions could have been of any avail. 

But this is not all that the President did to 
preserve the peace. When informed by the 
Mayor of BufTalo that Mackenzie was beating 
up for recruits in that place, and when he 
learned also that disturbances of a like char- 
acter were going on in other places, he imme- 
diately ordered ".ne United States Attorneys of 
the adjoming districis to repair lorthwith to 
the scenes where those illegal transactions 
were said to be in progress; and he also plac- 
ed at the disposal of these law officers all the 
custom house officers in their vicinity. But 1 
have still one farther proof; and one which I 
presuiiie will be conclusive with thegenileman 
from New York, as it is British prooi I have 
the testimony of Lsrd Palmerslon before the 
House of Commons, in which he expresses bis 
entire satisfaction that the Americaa Govern- 
ment were doing all in their power to preserve 
the f'iendly relations existing between the two 
countries. Surely, the gentleman who has 
read us the letter of the hslt convicted, though 
knighted felon, Allan MeNab, to criminate the 
Am-ncan President, will receive such testi- 
mony as that of Lord Palmerston, in his vindi- 
cation. And now, Mr Speaker, with these 
proofs of Mr Van Buren's vigilance beiore me, 
I take upon myself to say tnat the charge of 
the gentleman from New York is without the 
slightest toundatiou ia truth ; that it is but the 
sickly ofTjpring of his own fevered imagin- 
ation. 

When the proposition to restore the 
fine to General Jackson came up inl843, 
General Butler made the most efTective 
speech delivered on the occasion. It 
was listened to by both parties in the 
House of Representatives with breath- 
less attention. When he ceased, a tu- 
multuous coii<Tratulation followed, which 
evinced the high pleasure it produced 
upon the members. We will give a 
single extract from thts speech, in which 
as well as the preceding one, the same 
traits of character and principle are 
evinced — patriotism, fidelity to his 
friends, and bold defence of the democ- 
racy against all assailants : 

MRSpKAKKit: Although there is perhaps, 
not a geQilecnan around me less in love wJtii 
the music of his own voice within mine, yet 
there are occasions — and this is one of them — 
OH which I do not feel myself at liberty to fol- 
low the natural bent of my own inclination. 
It is known to you, sir, and to many others in 
this hall, that I belonged to the southern ar- 



my commanded bv General Jaekson, in 1 
years 1814 and 1815. It will, therttfore, 
presumed, and correctly presumed, that 1 1 
somewhat familiar with the prominent lae 
and circumstances which led to the declaratit 
and enforcement of martial law, and for whii 
the fine proposed to be remitted by the b 
now under consideration was inflicted. Itl 
also known to you, sir— at least it is w« 
known to my constituents-— tliat I have ev 
been tha warm personal and political friendi 
that distinguished gentleman. Nay, Sir, th 
I was once, but not then, a member of his m 
itary family. Under all these circumstancK 
were I to remain silent, and listen to such 
debate as that to which this subject has gtvn 
rise, there could be but one of two opiuiOi 
formed as to the cause of that silence, 
would either be said that I deemed the coi 
duct of General Jackson utterly mdet<^nsibil 
or that I shrunk from that defence. Neiih 
of them shall be said in advance, whatev 
else may b e said when I shall have taken^n, 
seat 

What, sir, is the proposition before m 
Simply to restore to General Jackson til 
amount of a fine, indicted, as he contends,! 
the performance of an act of imperative dull 
and one essential to the service of the countrl 
And yet, sir, I see with equal pain and so 
prise that this simple proposition, whic 
ought to depend upon truth and justice alom 
is fast as)<uming, if it has not already assume 
a decided parly character. I am asked, £ 
my right and on my left, why the democrati 
party did not pass such a law when in povi 
er ' Dj gentlemen who make this inquiij 
wish to leave the inference that the democrt 
ic party have shrunk from doing so ? This n, 
one does or can believe. Why should this I 
peculiarly a democratic meastare ? Had ll 
Whigs no part in the defence ot New Orleam 
Were none of them, or none of there frien<i| 
there ? If they cherish uo proud recollectioicj 
ot that glorious defence, and are willing^ 
yield up all to the democratic party, then, ill 
deed, there might be some pretence for malii 
ing this a party question. But, sir, I know it ( 
far otherwise ; I know that every patriot i 
the land feels his heart hound prouder withi^ 
him, as his eye falls on that immortal page i 
his country's history; and he feels that suci 
achievements are a nation's, not a pi^rty \ 
wealib. Siill I hear the question repeated o 
all sides, 'why is this measure forced upon i 
whig Congress ?' It may be sir, for the ei 
press purpose of affording that party the op 
portunity to prove to the world that justiciij 
and magnanimity are still to be found in ilu 
ranks ; or it may be for precisely the opposit»j 
reason. I understand, however, it has beei 
done in obedience to the voice of public sen 
timent— acting, no doubt, on the known wish 
es of General Jackson to be released from i 
fine which he believes unjust, and therefon 
only, oppressive. If my wish were to maki 
political capital, and I could consent to resor 
to such a measure for such a purpose, nolhinj; 



lid please me more than to witness the par- 
»ias attempted to be given to it. Sir, will 
ir party, with all its knowledge and talents 
er have the wisdom to appreciate the 
erican people ?' Lay this question before 
m in your next canvass, and yoii will at 
<t learn that iugratitude and injustice to 
je who have freely peiiled their lives in de- 
;e ot their country form no part of their 
racter. 

lefore I proceed father upon the merits of 
question under consideration, permit me to 
a few words in reply to tpar the of speech 
lie venerable, gentleman, [Mr Adams]— not 
ts merits I will first read from the Globe's 
ort of that speech the following paragraph: 
lumors were afloat — he could not, of 
rse, vouch for their truth— that the great 
Bidental question between the various di- 
ons of the democratic party was to be ulti- 
ely decided by General Jackson himself, 
eemed to be given out that he was to be 
president of ihe nationnl democratic con- 
tion ; and who knew what the result would 
' Such were Ihe rumors which were 
at. From what the House had seen, it 
s clear that all the divisions of the party 
e humble suitors for the good will or neu- 
ity of General Jackson. He did not ex- 
«sly asign the paragraph in the message ol 
President to that purpose. Tbe President 
le knew what were his motives: and, 
refore, he (Mr A ) would not say that this 
! a bid in the great auction. If it was not 
jfy good one. He thought the 'war-worn 
jran' would say that such a bid won't do. 
any rate, he wished to have the trial made, 
putting the bill in precisely the same terms 
jmraeiided by ihe President, in order to 
whether the 'war- worn veteran' would 
!it.' 

fow, sir, I will not pretend to decide what 
lence General Jackson may have in future 
sident-making. It is, however, well known 
nd to none better than the venerable gen- 
nan (Mr Adams) himself— that the old hero, 
IS day, was esteemed a most capital preti- 
t-breaker. And even if it were true that, 
ne character, he has drawn support to this 
no one can doubt that, in the other, he 
excited against it a most deadly andun- 
nting opposition. That the gentleman (Mr 
ms) cannot consistently oppose it on the 
»1 ground— the unwarrantable assumption 
ower— is manifest from the fact, that he 
: himself most triumphantly vindicated the 
e General from a similar exercise ofpow- 
j)n the ground of necessity, and in a much 
le questpnable case. We are, therefore, 
eek elsewhere for that gentleman's oppo- 
n ; nor is it difficult to find. Had Gener- 
[ickson retired to private lite at the close 
lis military career— had he but worn meek- 
Uose honors which he won proudly, he 
Ht have gone down the vale of years fol- 
( ed by the prayers and blessings of all ; his 
II els growing fresher and greener at every 
li oi bis pilgrimage, until standing, as he 



now doe;, on the brink of the gwhe, they 
would have caught a bright reflection of the 
world beyond it. This bill would then have 
passed on its merits, and passed by acclama- 
tion. But, sir, he dared do otherwise. He 
dared throw his tall, straight shadow across 
the crooked path of m^d ambition. He dared 
resist that combination, trick, and jugglery, 
by which a federal dynasty was foisted upon 
a free country. He dared appeal— and ap- 
peal successfully — from the people's servants 
to the people themselves. And, above all, 
sir, he dared strike to dust a corrupt moneyed 
monopoly, alike essential in every age and 
country to the existence of such a dynasty. 
This, sir, is the front of his offending — this 
has arrayed party vengeance against this 
bill. 

The same venerable gentleman has also 
spoken of the sale of the office of President at 
public auction ; and seems emulous to succeed 
my friend from Indiana, [Mr Thomson,] who, 
gave us a most amusing display ot his talents 
as congressional auctioneer. This new auc- 
tioneer, loo, lias thought fit to change his rooms 
from the White House to the Hermitage. — 
Now, sir, as we have learned from the vener- 
able gemlemaa [Mr AdamsJ the "rumor" that 
one ex-President is to dispose of the demo- 
cratic interest in the next elcetioin of Chief 
Magistrate, it is but fair to presume — from 
"rumor," of course— that the other ex-Presi-* 
dent may have some little influence in dispos- 
ing of the whig interest in the same office ; snd, 
if so, in requital lor his important information, 
on the veritable authority of 'rumor," I would 
advise him, by all means, when that interest 
is disposed of, to adhere to the good old "ru- 
mored" precedent of 1S24 — or perhaps, sir, 
sealed proposals will suit quite as well. 

Whether I ought to take any, or what notice 
I ought to take of the groveling anecdote of 
the traitor Arnold, applied to the venerable ex- 
Prtsident (Mr Adams) to an old successful 
competitor for the first office in the world, long 
after that competitor had quitted the political 
arena forever, is a matter of much doubt I 
will simply say of this attack, that it is of but 
too Close affinity with that made by the notori- 
ous Knight ot Gadshill on the soldier corse of 
thft gallant Percy— and will be felt about as 
much. 

"The victory of New Orleans undoubtedly 
was a ground of high glory, not only to the 
individual who was at tlie head of our forces, 
but of glory to the nation itself. But, on ac- 
count of that victory, were they to sanction 
acts which, in the pamphlet referred to by the 
gentleman from Kentucky, (Mr Underwood,) 
were argued to be treason ; and were they not 
only to sanction, but to reward those acts on 
that ground? It reminded Mr A. of an anec- 
dote which he heard many years ago respect- 
ing General Arnold — a man very celebrated in 
the war of our revolution. After his exploits 
in thi« country, (which were of two charac- 
ters,) he went to England ; end there, being 
an object of contempt to everbody he saw, 



14 



a^Bu 



and pafliulaTly to every American, he still 
sought iht- company of Americans who visited 
England alter the clos'e ot the w r, snd in ihe 
course ot a conversa'ion he had with an Amer- 
ican with whom he had been acquainted in 
this country before his treason and ireacnery, 
he asked him what the Americans would have 
done with him if they had caught him instead 
of Anrire, or it Andre nad been delivered up 
(as was proposed) for the purpose ot having 
him? Said the Amercan, 'They would have 
buried that leg of yours which was mutilated 
in iheir service with the honors ot war, and 
they would have hung you tor the remainder 
of your body.' 1 hai was the sort ol justice 
which, cumparatively speaking, would be 
more proper than thai of liis colleague, which 
was to reward General Jackson tor imprison- 
ing a judge becau-e he had won the battle of 
New Orleans." 

I will now, sir, (if I can be pardoned by the 
Hvuse for this, to me, most unpleasant digres- 
sion,) turn t wb»t I concrive thr- true merits 
ol the ques-tion— the propriety ot the declara- 
tion and enlorcement of marinl la<v, by Gen 
Jackson, at New Orleans. When 1 speak of 
martial law. I will noi be understood as mean- 
ing the law establishing rules and ar'iclesfor 
the government oi ihe army ot th- United 
Slates. That law is at all liiijes io force, and 
acquires no new power from a simple declara- 
nion oi that fact I mean that martial law of 
paramount c nirol, as it is understood in all 
countries, and whic-h iTiay not unaptly be de- 
fined '-the common law ot camps," springing 
ouL of, and commensurate with the exigencies 
of armies in the field— exigencies which can- 
not be foreseen, and iKerefore oannol be guard- 
ed aga'nst in ad^anc^-, by fixed l-gislaiion 
That General Jackson had the constitution!.! 
power formally to declare or enforce such a 
law— to supersede ihe civil for such military 
rule— I shall not contend for him ; nor has he 
ever so contended for himself. If his justifi- 
cation is to be found at all -and that it is, I 
cave no doubt— t mut be sought for amidst 
the dangers and difficulties by which he found 
himself surrounded. I know, sir, there are 
some who would lain persuade the world that 
no alternative, however direful, can justify, 
or even excuse, a resort to such a course. I 
have now a pamplet before me, signed "A 
Kentuckian," written with some ability, in 
which the author labors to enforce this doc- 
trine. A single and a very short paragraph 
from this work will serve to show his posi- 
tion : 

"The great national interest with us— the 
great point of discipline— is, and ever must 
be, implicit and devoted obedience to the 
law." 

Besed on this dogma, he labors to prove 
that while General Jackson was whipping the 
British, he was, in fact, levying war agamst 
his own country— because he tool: the neces- 
sary measures to suppress mutiny and treason 
in his own camp ! —and winds up by saying, 
'"Tis plain, unmitigated treason." 



Who this learned gentleman is, I do' 
care to know. From his unsparing bitterne 
he might well be takenforsome political re, 
gade, vainly attempting to win toe corifideh 
of his new friends, by assailing the leadet 
his old ones. Certain I am h-^ is no foldo 
and l«noivsnoth'ng ot the hardships or cai 
allies of war. It he did, he w..uld also km 
that an army rarely marches by day, or hit 
by night, without necessarily breaking so 
law, or trampling on some right. It is mo 
than probable this gentleman is some juA 
or ex-judge, who, wrapping himself int 
robes of office, and hugging lo his heart ti 
darling Utopia, "implicn obedience," ion 
imagines ttiat he can convince thuAmv-Tii 
people ihat it were infinitely better New 
leans iiad been sacked and burnt, than sa 
by martial Uw This is but the Coctrinei 
tempted to be inculcated in ihe pamphlet 
terrtd to, when carried into practici. ; £ 
whatever may be thought ot i now, I h, 
no doubt it would have been received t. 
acclamation by the entire Briti-h array atij 
tme. In this shape, then, let it go beln 
the world. I, at least, will waste no aK 
ment to provi its lolly or its falsity. 

In 1844 the same experiment ^j 
made with Butler's popularity to ca 
the State for the d.^mocracy, as had ? 
ceeded in his congressional district, 
was nominated as the democratic cat 
date ror governor by the 8th oi Janu 
convention; and there is good groum 
believe that he would have been cho 
over his estimable whig competi 
Governor Owsley, but for Ihe unive, 
conviclion throughout the State that) 
defeat of Mr Clay's party, by the chd. 
of a democratic governor in Aug 
would have operated to injure Mr Cli 
prospects throughout the Union in 
presidential election, which follow 
immediately after, in November. V, 
Mr Clay's popularity, and the actin 
of all of his friends— with the State p 
so long exalted by the aspiration of 
ing a President to the Union— more 
gerly than ever enlisted against the 
mocracy, Colonel Butler diminished „ 
whig majority from twenty thousanif 
less than five thousand. 

The late military events with wli 
Major General Butler has be^conni] 
ed — in consequence of his elevatioitj 
that grade in 1846, with the view to'l 
command of the volunteers raiset 
support General Taylor in his inva; 
of Mexico— are so well known to 
country, that minute recital is not ne 
sary. He acted a very conspict 



15 



pavt in the severe conflict at Monterey, 
and had as second in command under 
General Taylor, his full share in the ar- 
duous duties and responsibilities incur- 
red in that important movement. The 
narrative of Major Thomas, senior assist- 
ant adjutant general of the army in Mex- 
ico, and hence assigned by General 
Taylor to the staff of General Butler, 
reports so plainly and modestly the part 
which General Butler perfoimed in sub- 
jecting the city, that it may well stand 
for history. This passage is taken from 
it : — 'The army arrived at their camp in 
the vicinity of Monterey about loon, 
September 19. That afternoon the Gen- 
eral endeavored by personal observation 
to get information of the enemy's posi- 
lion. He, like General Taylor, saw the 
importance of gaining the road to Sallil- 
0, and fully favored the movement of 
Greneral Worth's division to turn their 
eft, &c. Worth marched Sunday, !Sep- 
ember 20, for this purpose ; thus leav- 
ng Twigg's and Butler's divisions with 
jen Taylor. Gen Butler was also in 
'avor of throwing his division across the 
?t John's nvpr, and approaching the 
own from the east, which was first de- 
ermined upon. This was changed, as 
t would leave but one, and perhaps the 
;mallest division, to guard the camp 
.nd attack in front. The 20th, the Gen- 
sral also reaonnoitred the enemy's posi- 
ion. Early the morning of the 21st the 
oroe was ordered to create a diversion 
n favor of Worth, that he might gain 
lis posution ; and betore our division 
ame within range of the enemy's prin- 
ipal battery, the foot of Twiggs's divi- 
ion had been ordered down to'the north- 
ast side of the town, to make an armed 
econnoissance of the advanced battery, 
nd to take it if it could be done without 
reat loss. The volunteer division was 
earcely formed in rear of our howitzer 
nd mortar battery — established the 
ight previous, under cover of a rise of 
round— before the infantry sent down 
) the northeast side of the town became 
losely and hotly engaged ; the batte- 
es of that division were sent down, and 
'6 were then ordered to support the attack. 
■eaving the Kentucky regiment to sup- 
ort the mortar and howitzer battery, 
le General rapidly put in march, by a 



flank movement, the other three regi- 
ments, moving for some one and a half 
or two miles under a heavy fire of round 
shot. As further ordered, the Ohio reg- 
iment was detached from Quitman's 
brigade, and led by the General (at this 
time accompanied by General Taylor) 
into the town. Quitman carried his 
brigade directly on the battery first at- 
tacked, and gallantly carried it. Before 
this, however, as we entered the sub- 
urbs, the chief engineer came up and 
advised us to withdraw, as the object of 
the attack had failed ; and if we moved 
on, we must meet with great loss. The 
General was loth to fall back without 
consulting with Gen Taylor, which he 
did do — the General being but a short 
distance off. As we were withdrawing, 
news came that Quitman had carried 
the battery, and General Butler led the 
Ohio regiment back to the town at a dif- 
ferent point. In the street we became 
exposed to a line of batteries on the op- 
posite side of a small stream, and also 
from a tete de pant (bridge-head) which 
enfiladed us. Our men fell rapidly as 
we moved up the street to get a position 
to charge the battery across the stream. 
Comijig to a cross street, the General 
reconnoitred the position, and determin- 
ed to charge from that point, sent me 
back a short distance to stop ihe firing, 
and advance the regiment with the bay- 
onet. I had just left him, when he was 
struck in the leg; being on foot, he was 
obliged to leave the field. 

'On entering the town, the General 
and his troops became at once hot'y en- 
gaged at short musket range. He had 
to make his reconnoisances under heavy 
fire. This he did unflinchingly, and by 
exposing his person— on one occasion 
passing through a large gateway into a 
yard, which was entirely open to the 
enemy. When he was wounded, at the 
intersection of the two streets, he was 
exposed to a cross-fire of musketry and 
grape. 

'In battle the General's bearing was 
truly that of a soldier; and those under 
him felt the influence of his presence. 
He had the entire confidence of his 
men.' 

The narrative of Major Thomas con- 
tinues : 



^■M 



16 



'When Gen Taylor went on his expe- 
dition to Victoria, in December, he plac- 
ed Gen Butler in command of the troops 
left on the Kio Grande, and at the sta- 
tions from the river on to Saltillo — 
Wortlrs small division of regulars being 
at the latter place. Gen Wool's column 
had by this time reached Parras, one 
hundred ur more miles west of Saltillo. 
Gen Butler had so far recovered from 
his wound as to walk a little and take 
exercise on horseback, though with pain 
to his limb. One night (about ihe 19th 
December) an express came from Gen 
Worth at Saltillo, stating that the Mexi- 
can forces were advancing in large 
numbers Irom San Luis de Potosi, and 
that he expected to be attacked in two 
days. His division all told did not ex- 
C3ed 1,500 men, if so many, and he 
asked re-inforcements. The General 
remained up during the balance of the 
night, sent off the necessary couriers to 
the rear for reinforcements, and had the 
1st Kentucky and the 1st Ohio foot, then 
encamped three miles from town, in the 
place by daylight; and these two regi- 
ments, with Webster's battery, were en- 
camped that night ten miles on the road 
to Saltillo. This promptness enabled 
the General to make his second day's 
march of twenty-two miles in good sea- 
son, and to hold the celebrated pass of 
Los Muertos, and check the enemy 
should he have attacked Gen Worth on 
that dky and obliged him to evacuate 
the town. Whilst on the next and last 
day's march, the General received no- 
tice that the reported advance of the 
enemy was untrue. Arriving at the 
camp-ground,.4he General suffered in- 
tense pain from his wound, and slept 
not during the night. This journey, 
over a rugged mountainous road, and the 
exercise he took in examining the coun- 
try for twenty miles in advance of Sal- 
tillo, caused the great increase of pain 
now experienced.' 

The major's account then goes on to 
relate Gen Butler's proceedings while 
in command of all the forces after the 
junction of Generals Worth and Wool — 
his dispositions to meet the threatened 
attack of Santa Anna — the defences cre- 
ated by him at Saltillo, and used during 
the attack at Buena Vista in dispersing 



Minon's forces — his just treatment of the 
people of Saltillo, with the prudent and 
effectual precautions taken to makd 
them passive in the event of Santa An- 
na's approach. It concludes by stating 
that all apprehensions of Santa Anna's 
advance subsiding. Gen Butler returned 
to meet Gen Taylor at Monterey, to re- 
port the condition of affairs; and theS 
latter, having taken the command atl 
Saltillo, transmitted a leave of absenctaj 
to Gen Butler, to afford opportunity fo3 
the cure of his wound. 

This paper affords evidence of the I 
kind feeling which subsisted betweenji 
the two generals during the campaign;! 
and this sentiment was strongly eviHced'' 
by Gen Butler, on his arrival in Wash- 
ington, where he spoke in the most ex- 
alted terms of the leader under whom 
he served. 

In person, Gen Butler is tall, straight,! 
and handsomely formed ; exceedingly 
active and alert. His mien is inviting 
— his manners graceful — his gait an^ 
air military — his countenance frank sad 
pleasing — the outline of his features of 
the aquiline cast, thin and pointed 
ill expression — the general contour of 
his head is Roman. 

The character ol General Butler in 
private life is in fine keeping with that 
exhibited in his public career. In the 
domestic circle, care, kindness, assidu- 
ous activity in anticipating the wants of 
all around him — readiness to forego his 
ov>^n gratifications to gratify others, have 
become habits growing out of his aflec- < 
tions. His love makes perpetual sun- 
shine at his home. Among tis neigh- 
bors, liberality, afiability, and active 
sympathy mark his social intercourse, 
and unbending integrity and justice all J| 
his dealings. His home is one of un-l 
pretending simplicity. It is too much' 
the habit in Kentucky, with stern and 
fierce men, to carry their personal and m 
political ends with a high hand. GeafI 
Butler with all the masculine strength, " 
courage, and reputation, to give success 
to attempts of this sort, never evinced 
the slightest disposition to indulge the 
power ; while his well-known firmness 
always forbade such attempts on him. 
His life has been one of peace with all 
men, except the enemies of bis coun- 
try. 



























/^<i 




.J^L'* ^?^ 




*^^ 







V.^^ 














•- '-n^O^ o\ 



• • • .V ' 




















j^*^' 






c*^^ 

.^^ ^ 
















\' ^1 



. <■o^l^^.>o /..i.;^.\ /-^^jiu.'"- 







